


You Make Me Feel Good

by tarp_walls



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Platonic Female/Male Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 08:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarp_walls/pseuds/tarp_walls
Summary: Georgi and Mila go on a date. It’s not entirely horrible.





	You Make Me Feel Good

Georgi felt utterly miserable. He hit rock bottom a while ago. Now he’s pretty sure he’s tunneled beneath the dirt, drawing closer and closer to the center of the earth. Anya. Anya. Anya. The sound of her name weighed heavily on his lips and even heavier on his heart. It was while he was in this state of desperation that he asked out his brown-haired rinkmate...and been shot down.

“Really Georgi?”

Two words that cut him deeply. Why did nobody take him seriously? His heartache was worth no less than anyone else’s. Maybe they thought he deserved it. He supposed his constant couple posting on Instagram could be considered annoying, but in Georgi’s eyes, there was nothing more beautiful than love. Even shattered love, which was why he decided to make his season’s theme heartbreak.

“Are you listening?”

Georgi slowly returned back to the present.

“You’re not that old, are you? I know you can hear me!”

In front of him, young Mila was twisting herself into quite a knot, gesticulating wildly at him. “Earth to Georgi!”

“What?” he sighed.

Mila laughed. “So you’re not deaf after all. I asked you out on a date.”

Georgi blinked. This was...unexpected. Mila was not unattractive, but she was no Anya. Anya’s luscious brown locks had flowed in the wind. Mila’s short choppy red hair was a pale comparison. It bobbed up and down with each one of the woman’s excited motions. Then his mind turned to darker thoughts. Was this a joke? Maybe the girl from his last failed dating attempt had gossiped with Mila, and she had decided to play a prank on Georgi.

Mila dragged her skates across the ice impatiently, engraving little doodles onto the rink. “All right. I take it that we’ll meet after practice then.”

Georgi met her outside the door, ears still ringing from Yakov’s yelling. He was surprised to see that Mila had changed from her usual practice clothes into a pair of dark wash jeggings and leather jacket. “You changed?”

Mila grinned. “Of course. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Georgi frowned. “You’re wearing sneakers.”

“Yeah. So?”

Anya had been a truly regal woman. She never wore sneakers, flats, or anything other than high heels. “Anya never wore—”

Mila held up a finger. “Hold it right there! You should never talk about your exes on the first date! Error number one.”

“What is this?” Georgi grumbled, feeling his blood begin to boil. “Are you mocking me?”

Mila shrugged. “It’s up to you whether you want to take my advice or not, but I thought you were looking for a new girlfriend.”

A new girlfriend? Georgi didn’t know about that. Anya was too close in his past. He could still feel her lips against his, how soft her skin was, how sweetly her breath glided across his skin, how her eyes—

“Don’t daydream about other girls while you’re on a date either. Error number two,” Mila grumbled, stuffing her hands into her pockets. “This is quickly turning into the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Something in Georgi’s soul reared at that offense. He was the prince, not a mere stable boy. “My lady,” he said, bowing deeply and taking Mila’s hand.

The redhead was all but impressed. Georgi always did have a flair for the dramatic. In the best case scenario, it came off as intense. In the worst case scenario, Georgi seemed somewhat like a creep. Mila pulled her hand out of his. “A first date is for getting to know someone, for creating good impressions. You don’t want to make the girl think that you’re too intense from the start. Try being chill.” Gosh it sounded like she was spouting tips from one of those trashy teen girl magazines. She cringed internally.

Georgi considered what Mila said. Be chill. In an attempt to be nonchalant, he popped up the collar on his jacket, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and leaned against the side of the nearest building...which just happened to be the doors to the skating rink they had just exited.

Mila burst out laughing as he went crashing down, the door swinging inwards from the force of his weight. She deftly stopped the door with her foot, and Georgi scrambled up, face flushed with frustration and embarrassment.

“Hey,” Mila said, trying to control her laughter as Georgi quickly walked away from the scene of the crime. “Wait up. Hey!” She caught up to the lanky man and grabbed his arm cheerfully. “Come on, Georgi. Don’t be a party pooper. Let’s go. I have somewhere in mind.”  
  


**\- x -  
  
**

Georgi had to admit the place was nice. Maybe he had underestimated Mila. Since he was so much older than the other skaters, he tended to view them more as children than equals. He had expected a gaudy restaurant, crowded with young people, loud with the noise of people trying to speak over each other. Instead he sat across from Mila in a small intimate booth. The restaurant was quite dimly lit with a single candle in the middle of the table providing most of the lighting. There were red drapes hanging across the windows, blocking out the view of the busy street. A waiter had dropped off their food and then melted back into the background of the restaurant.

“How did you find this place?” Georgi asked, savoring his first taste of the salmon. It was exquisite.

Mila smiled. Georgi thought she looked somewhat wistful.

“I came here on my one year anniversary. You know with…” Her voice trailed off.

Ah, of course. How could Georgi forget? Mila too was experiencing the turbulent troubles of the heart. Suddenly Georgi was brimming with sympathy. “You’re still young yet. There’s all the time in the world.”

Mila smiled again. This time Georgi got the feeling it was more genuine.

“Thanks, Georgi,” she said. And she really was young, on the cusp of adulthood but not quite there. Spending time away from her family made her feel more grown up than she was, but breaking up with her first high school boyfriend had been an entirely teenage affair. Mila didn’t really consider herself the over-emotional type, but she supposed there were always exceptions. There was some yelling, a lot of crying, and tons of chocolate and ice cream involved with the breakup. Mila even kicked one of his precious hockey sticks in the heat of it, screaming that he had always “liked stupid hockey more than her.” But she couldn’t fault him for that. Because she liked figure skating more than him. Let it never be said that Mila Babicheva was not fair in her judgements.

“Anya liked fish,” Georgi said ruefully.

“Order something different next time then.” Mila raised her glass to Georgi. “To new beginnings.”

Georgi could raise his glass to that.

“And,” Mila added as an afterthought, “to crappy exes.”

A genuine laugh bubbled out of Georgi’s mouth to his surprise. He hadn’t thought that he could laugh over Anya. At least not yet. Maybe he was more ready to move on than he’d thought.

They spent the remainder of the dinner talking about various topics. Mila did a mean impression of Coach Yakov, and Georgi thawed enough to put on an imitation of Lilia. Georgi offered his technical insights on Mila’s jumping techniques, surprised when the young woman agreed with some of his more critical points. In return though, Mila dug her claws into his Cup of China performance and ripped it to shreds.

“The crying,” she concluded, “was just a little too much.”

Buzzed on wine and feeling much less miserable than he did previously, he good–naturedly responded, “You’re probably right.”

Mila snorted. “You’re tipsy.”

“Probably.” That would explain why he found the droplets of condensation dripping down the rim of his glass strangely entrancing. He continued to stare at the droplets, barely paying attention to Mila. He followed her out of the restaurant, and they paused in the doorway.

“Thanks for paying.” Mila flashed him a victory sign.

He paid? Wow was his wallet going to hurt in the morning. Georgi mustered enough energy to wave Mila goodbye as she took off down the street. To where, who knew? His phone dinged the next second. Georgi checked the Instagram notification.

Had a nice date with @georgi-popovich. Let’s go out another time!  
  


**\- x -  
**  

When Georgi decided to go on a date instead of watching the Grand Prix, Yuri scoffed, called him creepy, and wished the girl good luck. Yakov frowned disapprovingly but grunted in some sort of assent. His brown-haired rinkmate sighed and advised him to lower his intensity level. And Mila? Mila took one look at him and laughed, suggesting that he go home, throw out his entire closet, and start from scratch.

But before she left to compete, she gave him a friendly whack on the back and said just one word.

“Davai.”


End file.
